On The Inside
by RackeltheRacoon
Summary: Hermione and Ron, after a holidays without Harry, hatch an evil plan (involving a broom cupboard, naturally). *Slash* H/D, you have been warned :)
1. A Thorougly Evil Plan

**A/N: **Hehe, attack of the evil (and somewhat hilarious) plot bunnies! It's amazing what you can come up with during a particularly uninteresting lecture…as a subject, I really don't like geography…Anyway, no prizes for guessing what this is leading to :)

*SLASH* If you don't like it don't read it.

Disclaimer: You know the drill – I don't own them, and I sure as hell won't be making any money out of this.

***

On The Inside (Of A Broom Cupboard)

Chapter 1 – A Thoroughly Evil Plan

***

"Hermione! That's just evil!" Ron said, through an uncharacteristic fit of giggles. Hermione was sitting across from him at their table in the Great Hall, and was looking quite red in the face. Taking one look at her, Ron decided she'd had way too much pumpkin juice and promptly confiscated her goblet.

From all around them came the merry sounds of a traditional Hogwarts Christmas dinner. Seamus and Neville were stuffing themselves alongside the pair, and next to them were Lavender and Parvati. Even Padma, Parvati's Ravenclaw twin, had joined the Gryffindor gang for the holidays. Apart from the odd first year, she was the only Ravenclaw that had remained at Hogwarts.

Harry was also missing, having gone to spend some quality time with Sirius over the winter break. In his absence, Hermione and Ron had taken to planning his love life. It was Hermione, though, that had taken the initiative.

"A broom cupboard? Hermione, that's downright cruel. Poor Harry, I wouldn't wish that on anyone," replied Ron, after listening patiently to her plot. A thoughtful smile played about his lips. "Actually, perhaps a couple of hours alone wouldn't do them any harm…but we'd have to prepare it all first."

Hermione grinned, a slow, deliberate smile that the redhead knew all too well. "We could put a Warding Charm on it, to make sure they aren't disturbed. And it would have to be a weekend, when they wouldn't be missed."

"Can't be a match weekend then, it'd sure be noticed if he didn't show up for a game."

"First week after the holidays, then."

"Geez, I really don't know about this, 'Mione…"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh, for heaven's sake Ron! Aren't you sick of them biting each other's heads off at every opportunity? This would be a chance for them to … resolve their differences."

"But a broom cupboard? Is that really necessary? For that matter, what broom cupboard were you thinking of? I can't recall ever seeing any."

"There's one between the potions lab and Filch's office that I thought would do nicely. I'll show you tomorrow, if you want."

"Alright. That's not a yes, but. I just want to see the cupboard."

"So it's a maybe?"

"No! Well, yes, I guess so."

Neville nudged him from the side, and tried to pass a bowl of chicken wings. The topic was immediately changed from Harry and the broom cupboard to Snape's distasteful expression cast at them from the High Table. Conversation continued in such a manner until Hermione became rather indignant when Neville accused her of being tipsy. Ron confiscated the jug of Pumpkin Juice and Banished it all the way to the Slytherin table. However good his intentions might have been his aim was surely not, and the full jug hit Draco Malfoy rather forcefully in the back of the head.

Malfoy rose slowly, and without looking behind him said, "If that was you, Potter, I swear I'm going to…"

Ron cut him off. "Aren't you lucky. It wasn't. In any case, it wasn't intentional. You're just to large a target to miss!" Crabbe and Goyle stood and joined Malfoy, who had turned to face his "attacker". Both looked unusually large and menacing - and undoubtedly ill. Going by the piles of empty platters surrounding their places, Hermione wasn't faintly surprised. She took her wand from a pocket in her robes, and cast a simple cleansing charm that removed the coat of pumpkin juice that still clung to Malfoy.

"So where's Potter, huh? Ditched you, has he? Found his own _celebrity_ clique?" He ignored Hermione's efforts, having noticed that Harry wasn't among the cluster of Gryffindors that hadn't gone home for Christmas.

"What do you think? Are you really so thick that you can't figure out where more than three quarters of the school have gone off to?" Ron's unusually good mood was giving way fast.

"Well, it's not like he has anywhere to go!"

Hermione gave up on the pointless argument. "What would you know, Malfoy? You aren't exactly in a position to comment. Give us a break, we _were_ enjoying our dinner." She glared, and Draco reluctantly retreated.

Ron snickered. "I take it back. This is going to be brilliant!"

***

Harry, perhaps for the first time in his life, wished the holidays would never end. Well, maybe not 'never', but he certainly could have done with a little more than a fortnight. Sirius, during the day, was the father he had never known – in only two weeks, he had made sure Harry had the benefit of all the 'father-son' activities he could come up with. The two of them had gone to all the local Quidditch matches, flipped through magazines full of (gasp!) scantily clad women, and Sirius had taught Harry some new moves on his Firebolt that he was itching to try in his next school match. These lessons were not the only ones Sirius gave Harry; by night, Harry received as much advice and information about girls, dating, and…all that stuff…that he could possibly want to know.

It was such a good, yet unfamiliar experience for Harry. Before meeting Sirius, the only father figure in his life was his professor, Remus Lupin. Even so, Remus had other students apart from Harry to teach, and his time had to be spread around.

In any case, Harry was still on somewhat of a high when he farewelled Sirius at platform nine and three-quarters. The train trip itself was fairly uneventful, with only Dean and a cartful of sweets for company, but his welcome back at Hogwarts was definitely otherwise. Hermione and Ron acted as if they hadn't seen him for months, the former hugging and talking at him incessantly, the latter attempting to drag him off to the Gryffindor Tower to show off the Complete Quidditch Supplies kit he had received from an anonymous 'sponsor'.

Draco Malfoy was another member of his welcome committee, if only to see his first-year cousin off the train. He greeted Harry with a cool sneer and a snide comment about the extent and background of his family. Harry ignored him, and followed his friends into the castle.

***

It only took a few days for Harry to be certain that something was going on. If the knowing glances exchanged every so often by Ron and Hermione were any clue, Harry was sure they hadn't been bored over the holidays. He wondered what they might have gotten up to, then slapped himself on the forehead and muttered something about 'thinking bad thoughts'. His two friends only looked at each other again, and then at Harry.

He was beginning to feel quite scared.


	2. Unexpected Encounters

**A/N: **Mwa ha ha…there are no words…simply enjoy!

The reviews were wonderfully encouraging! Thankyou to everyone! That would be **Oili**;** Di-chan**; **Sierra Sitruc**; **Amaranth Sedai**; **AshFarley**; **Shades**; **Starcat13**; **Tori Amos II**; **Mel**;** A Big Sign That Says Flame Me**; and **Penny**. Love you all!

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm sure you weren't expecting that.

***

On The Inside (Of A Broom Cupboard)

Chapter 2 – Unexpected Encounters

***

Harry awoke to total, all-encompassing darkness. His first reaction was to grab his wand from beneath his robes, and when he failed to find it in its usual pocket he became aware of the seriousness of his situation. Alone, in indefinable darkness without a wand. Alone, …alone?

"Uh…what the fuck? Potter! What the fuck is going on?"

It seemed that Harry had stumbled across the prone, unconscious form of Draco Malfoy. Well, he _was_ unconscious…

"Potter! I asked you a question!"

"I heard you the first time, just give me a moment. I'm trying to figure out how the hell I could possibly wake up next to _you_, in the pitch-black, in a broom cupboard!"

A distinct snort came from Malfoy's direction. "Broom cupboard? How'd you figure that, genius?" Harry threw a Muggle mop at him, followed by a dustpan, bucket, and a Comet 64. Malfoy stared at the items piled against the wall behind him, before spinning around to glare at his nemesis. "You had something to do with this, didn't you!"

Sighing, Harry replied, "Well that isn't half obvious. I'm stuck in here with you, or had you forgotten?"

"Stuck? Have you tried the door?" When Harry didn't respond, Malfoy reached for what he assumed was the entrance to the closet. Nothing but solid stone met his hands, and Harry impatiently spun him around. "Hands off, Potter. You shouldn't touch what you can't afford." Malfoy's smirk faded somewhat when his fingertips found the vertical crack in the opposite 'wall'.

"Is there a handle?" asked Harry. With a patronizing look, Draco answered, "For Merlin's sake, Potter, think. You've woken up, in a dark enclosed, without your wand, with _me_, and you think you can just _walk_ out of here? Wait, you don't have your wand, do you?"

Harry reluctantly shook his head, forgetting that it was dark as night and it was unlikely that Malfoy could see the gesture. Quickly, he added, "No, it was the first thing I checked."

"Well that rules out leaving by the door. There's a locking charm on it, sure as hell. See any windows?"

"Are you _trying_ to be stupid?"

"You don't have any better ideas!"

"It's not like you've given me a chance!"

"Only because you're not capable of thinking without a crowd of admirers!"

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy."

"So now you think you're better than me? Why, because there's people trying to kill you and not me? Or because you're screwing Granger?"

WHACK.

"Fuck, Potter! What was that for? Truth hurts?"

"Cheap shot, Malfoy. What would make you think something like that?"

"I assumed…does that mean…you and Granger…you aren't?"

"Bloody hell, no. Is it not possible to be good friends without the entire school _assuming_?"

Malfoy didn't answer. Meanwhile, Harry's groping hand finally found what it was searching for: the light pull-cord. He gave it a brisk tug, the small space lighting quickly enough for him to note the somewhat apologetic look on Malfoy's face, and the beginnings of a bruise beneath his right eye. Noticing Harry staring, Malfoy's customary sneer slid back into place.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even be here."

Another snort, this time from where Harry was now sitting on the dusty, stone floor. "Who do you know that would want to knock me out and lock me in a cupboard, let alone with you? I know an awful lot that would wish it on you!"

"Like who?"

"Every single Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. And most of our professors."

"Unlike you, of course, worshipped by every female wizarding soul."

"You can have them if you want them," Harry said, resignedly. "In all seriousness, though," he continued, "why _do_ you think we're in here?"

"Somebody want's us out of the way for a day? Or longer…"

"Anyone in mind?"

"No-one from Slytherin. They've all seen what I can do to people who displease me."

"Right. Well, no-one from Gryffindor would have had anything to do with this. Matter of honour. Do you need me to spell it?"

"Grow up, Potter."

"Hypocrite."

"Hypocrite."

A long silence. Harry decided he had preferred Malfoy's company while he was unconscious.

"D'you reckon Voldemort…might have…"

Malfoy chuckled, slowly and coldly. "I don't think Voldemort will be doing anything of the sort for a looong time. Besides, if he was trying to kill you, or me, we'd be dead. Not stuck in a broom cupboard."

"And no outsiders can get into Hogwarts without detection."

"What makes you think we're still at Hogwarts? We could be anywhere!"

"Same reason. Besides, I don't think you can find Comet's anywhere else."

This drew a slightly warmer snigger from the Slytherin. "I'll give you that. So it's a student?"

"Must be."

Another long silence.

"Revenge?" ventured Harry.

"What?"

"Revenge. Someone has a grudge against either you or me…"

"Or both."

"…and could think of no better punishment than to lock us together in a cupboard."

Malfoy mumbled what almost sounded like agreement. "Possibly, but on the grounds that you and I are both _inside_ the cupboard, I rule it out. Who else could be bothered?"

"Dunno."

A disturbing thought tugged at the back of Harry's mind, but, with other pressing issues to deal with, it was quickly forgotten. So quickly, in fact, that Harry never really figured out exactly what it was.

"They'll come looking for us when we don't turn up for classes."

"Oh, Potter. It's Saturday morning, presumably…"

"Well, Dumbledore will know we're missing. He'll find us."

"That old Muggle-lover can't find his glasses while they're sitting on his head. Look, I'm going to sort through this junk, see if there's anything of use in here. You can just lie on the floor, if you want, just don't get in my way."

Harry couldn't be bothered to argue. Instead he merely took Malfoy's advice and sat back against the wall, mentally taking an inventory of his surroundings. The entire room was only three paces by two, and filled for the most part with Muggle cleaning equipment. After spending many hours (…a couple of minutes…) contemplating how in Merlin's name they got there, Harry came up with a simple solution.

"What else would you put in a broom cupboard?" he mused, out loud. It seemed Dumbledore and his ways had a very widespread effect on Hogwarts. Malfoy gave him a strange look before returning to his 'work'.

Grabbing a pile of Hessian bags, Harry made a crude pillow and made to doze off. Unfortunately, the alarming thought that had plagued him for nearly an hour struck, just as he was about to lose consciousness. He groaned.

"Hermione!"


	3. Revelations

**A/N: **I think it needs to be pointed out that I _can_ spell; I just live on the other side of the planet to most of you. We do things differently down here :) I noticed while writing this chapter my Microsoft Word spell-checker got rather annoyed with me, until I finally got around to changing it from American-English to Australian-English. Ah, much better. Little red squiggly lines under every second word get a little irritating after a while. 

He he…lots of reviews. I love you guys :) You'll get your Harry/Draco action soon, promise! Only a teaser, this chapter, I'm afraid. But, enough from me – enjoy the show!

Disclaimer: N.O.T. M.I.N.E. Grrrrrrrr…

***

On The Inside (Of A Broom Cupboard)

Chapter 3 – Revelations

***

When Hermione was good, she was very, very good; when Hermione was bad, she was very, _very_ bad. How to get Harry and Malfoy into a small cupboard, together, without knowing how or why? She had always loved a challenge.

Ron had suggested pulling the same stunt she had in their second year, filling two chocolate cakes with a Sleeping Draught and feeding them to her victims. Ron could really be a git when he tried. No, getting them into the cupboard was as easy as a Gullibility Charm (or, for the more blood-thirsty plotter, a simple Stupefy would suffice), but to do it without their knowledge of her involvement was indeed food for thought.

A Sleeping Draught would certainly be effective, but created more problems than it solved. How to get it into their food? How to get them from where they slumbered (the Great Hall? The middle of a corridor?) to the particular cupboard? No, it was all far too crude, by her standard in any case.

But a Summoning Charm – now _that _had potential. Surely, with a few slight modifications, it could summon a person, instead of an object. But then, walls would be a problem. However, given the best part of a day in the library, Hermione had come up with the answer.

***

"Hermione!"

Malfoy gave Harry an irritated-but-somewhat-curious glare. Nonetheless, his desire to know what had prompted such an exclamation gave way to the obvious opportunity for insult.

"What's the matter? Mudblood still on your mind?"

Clenching his fists and teeth, Harry struggled to bite back a rather unsavoury comment, discretion being the better part of valour and all. Growing up with Dudley had taught him one of life's most important lessons: If you ignore it, chances are it will go away. Unfortunately 'it' wasn't going anywhere, and the shared enclosed space was doing nothing for his self-control.

Enjoying Harry's obvious fight with his features, Malfoy decided that this was just too entertaining to stop there. 

"I don't see why you bother, it's not like she's your property." 

_Well, that was a change of tack, _thought Harry. _Half an hour ago he thought we were an item._

"You know," Malfoy continued, clearly in a mood for spiteful mischief "I think it was only yesterday I saw her with Dean. Wait, maybe that was Seamus…No, I'm pretty sure it was Seamus she spent so much time with over the Christmas holidays. And then there was Creevey…I didn't think she had it in her."

"You've been spying, Malfoy? That's not at all like you," said Harry, the sarcastic note in his voice contradicting the pretentious sincerity in his eyes. How much longer he could endure this, he didn't know. Keeping his face under control was beginning to hurt.

He had himself begun to wonder what Hermione was getting up to, though. Even in the last few weeks of the term, he had hardly seen her. That she was seeing someone was his first thought, but he had neglected to bring it up, on the grounds that Ron would have a fit. Maybe he should mention to Ron that Hermione might have plans differing to his. Poor guy had been trying to get up the nerve to ask her out for over three years now!

"Oh, but it's so...entertaining. She's quite the house slut! Who'd have thought it? Brown, maybe, but _never _our dear Head Girl," said Malfoy, his sneer so forced it looked like it was about to fly off his face.

Taking a deep breath, Harry _slowly_ counted to ten and _slowly_ exhaled (another life-saving technique developed as a result of living with the Dursleys). This was a war he'd spent all his life training for – stoic silence in the face of a wave of abuse. One element he hadn't practiced for, though; insults directed at him he could handle, but offence to Hermione was another thing altogether. Nonetheless, he would not be perturbed. 

Idly, he fingered the 'Best-Friend Charm' in his pocket which Hermione had given to him at the start of the term, and at the same time gave a similar pendant to Ron and herself. She claimed they would glow a colour that represented each of their moods. Hermione's side of his small convex pendant was an 'anxious' amber; Ron's an 'apprehensive' yellow. Maybe they realised he was missing? He wondered what colour his face on their pendants would be – a fiery red would be his guess.

"I remember Father telling me about another Gryffindor whore he once knew," Malfoy went on. "Lily, I think her name was."

All thoughts of control and calm evaporated. Harry's face contorted unwillingly, before erupting into a menacing snarl. _Screw it,_ he thought, and drew his fist.

***

Not that Harry would ever find out, his speculation concerning the 'colour of his mood' could not have been closer to the mark. Unfortunately for him, 'fiery red' can be interpreted in many different ways…and rage was not an emotion that crossed Hermione's mind. No, the glowing charm in her palm indicated only that everything had gone to plan. Anxiety, however, still lingered on Ron's face as he stared at the pendant in his own hand.

"Was this really a good idea, 'Mione? I'm not sure anymore. I mean…what if they…no, they wouldn't…would they?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That _was the idea, wasn't it? I mean, for Merlin's sake, he's nearly eighteen and still a virgin!"_

Now it was Ron's eyebrow that nearly reached his hairline. "And you're not? You're not...not a…Hermione! Who? How did you…without us knowing?"

Hermione raised another eyebrow, suppressing an amused chuckle at the sight of blood rising in his freckled cheeks. "And what did you think? That Head-Girl-Hermione was only, ah, interested in textbooks? Oh, come on, you know me better than that. Of all people! Did you honestly think I'd spent all that time in the _library? Well, actually, I did...but anyway…You were saying?"_

Mouth agape, not unlike that of Professor Flitwick having forgotten what he was about to say, Ron emitted a small, near incoherent squeak. "Uh…who?" From the ridiculous pitch of his voice, Hermione could have sworn Peeves had him by the balls. In any case, he was acting extremely immaturely about the whole thing. But then, what had she expected?

"Ron, believe me, you're better off not knowing. Now, we have a job to finish, yes?"

***

Without any warning, the doors of the cupboard fell open. 

For a moment, however small, both boys were completely oblivious to the sudden change in their environment. Malfoy, already sported the beginnings of a hefty black eye and a sweaty, flushed face, could only squint at Harry as the bigger boy prepared to send him flying into the cupboard doors. This would be all well and good had the doors not flown open at the point. Only a fraction of a second too late, Harry saw the 'wall' give way to an open hallway and attempted to pull the punch. Nonetheless, momentum had its way and both were powerless to prevent their graceless dive into the corridor.

Landing painfully on his back on the stone floor, Malfoy could only cringe and hold his hands over his head as Harry came tumbling out on of the cupboard to fall heavily on top of him. Harry's knee found its way straight into the pit of his stomach, leaving Malfoy gasping for breath and stuck for words.

Harry, on the other hand, had certainly _come out on top in this situation. In a sudden flash of inspiration, hearing the gaggle of Slytherins coming down the passage, presumably from dinner in the Great Hall, he grinned. Picturing just how those walking toward them would see the two of them…Oh, sweet revenge!_

Picking himself up from the stone floor as elegantly as he could, he reached out a hand and hauled Malfoy to his feet. As the group of students rounded the corner, into sight of the pair, Harry wrapped his arms around the other boy's lithe figure, one hand at the back of his neck, and moved in to press his lips against Malfoy's in a passionate embrace.

Taking only a quick, gratifying glance at the mixture of horror, disgust, and sheer embarrassment in Malfoy's eyes, and the collective shock evident in the faces of the Slytherins, he ran off in what he supposed was the direction of the Gryffindor tower with a triumphant grin stretched across his own features.


End file.
